


Arsonists Lullaby

by Living_Fast



Series: The War Crimes [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, youtube - Fandom
Genre: (Cutting of someone's hair without permission), AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animal Traits, Animal hybrids, As in they rough house, Baby Technoblade, Baby TommyInnit, Baby Wilbur Soot, Blood and Injury, Boys Being Boys, Braids, Brother Feels, Child Abandonment, Children, Dadza, Damn, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Dave | Technoblade-centric, Despite living with them for like 2 years aleady, I WROTE THIS BITCH IN 3 DAYS, I do not like children, I have no idea what this time line is anymore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insanity, It's none of the boys, Little Brother TommyInnit, Middle Child Technoblade, NO SHIPPING YOU NASTYS, NOT ENOUGHT TECHNOBLADE ANSGT, Non-Consensual Body Modification, OC's - Freeform, Other, Parents should love their children, Past Child Abuse, Phil Tommy and Wilbur do not cut Techno's hair without asking, Piglin Hybrid! Technoblade, Platonic Relationships, Playing in the Dirty, Post Election??, Pre- Dream smp, Protective Dad, Protective Siblings, Siblings, Slow decline into Madness, Struggling to fit into an established family, Sword Fighting, Swords, Technobaby, Technoblade angst, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, We Stan Phil in this house, YALL SLACKIN, You know Minecraft stuff, and Play fight, axes, big brother wilbur soot, boys being soft, boys crying, its a warning tag, no beta we die like women, poor Techno, sibling relationships, stuffed animals, technoblade needs a hug, thats a tag itself, this is shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Fast/pseuds/Living_Fast
Summary: Techno stepped into Manburg for the first time, Hair hiding his face from view, hand rolling the Axe in his hand.Tommy on top of a Horse, eyes wild and Bloodshot- face streaked with tear tracks.The Anarchist in him screamed for Revenge, for Revolution. Chaos- set it all on fire.The Piglin in him called for Blood, Death. To take what should be rightly his.The Human in him smiled. (A crazed Smile that only his brothers ever took Comfort in)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: The War Crimes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000203
Comments: 19
Kudos: 813
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Arsonists Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I TOLD YALL I WOULD WRITE MORE DID I NOT.

Phil breathed out a sigh of relief, Wilbur pulling Tommy further into the house. The boy was still a little clingy, and the underlying separation anxiety that’s starting to poke its head out. Was beginning to look a little ugly. 

Wilbur curbed some of it, but it was going to get worse eventually. 

Dropping his hat on his head, making sure his horns were covered. While most of the Village was quite happy with his existence in the area, not everyone was as Quiet with their Rage was some. 

The soft brown cloak slung around his shoulders. 

\---

Walking from their Rather large farmhouse to the Village was far longer than it needed to be, but Phil promised a new toy. They need some groceries anyway. 

Two birds, one stone, right? 

Phil pushed onward, fighting against the crowd to get to the small toy store just off the square. “The Traders brought back a Prize!” 

A high squeal cut through the air, silencing all talk- the air heavy, and the High screaming that sounded childlike. Phil’s bones turned to ice, no longer fighting the crowd. 

His wings tensing as another squeal slide through the whispers of the villagers. 

The square opened up to the Wagon party of Traders, the head guard who went with them, hosting something high in the air. 

Phil pushes forward, hat falling to the side at the movement. Fighting back the need to flash his eyes to make people really move. 

The _child_ squealing is a hybrid; he finally gets a good look at him halfway through the crowd. 

Dark-colored hooves, torn pants; a tiny little tail curled around his leg. Baby pink hair, matted with dirt and leaves. Probably some blood with the way they’d were handling him. It hung in chunky curls- clutched in the man’s hand. Ears Pinned to the side of his head. 

A dirty face, with a slightly upturned nose. 

Before it lets out another horrified Scream- mouth open, Phil Marks as Pig Hybrid showing off the beginnings of Tusks. 

Deep blue eyes Flashing A deep Ruby. 

No, not a pig. 

_Piglin._

That’s the crime the Pup Committed. A child- a Pup, a crime he did not wish to commit.

_And how dare they._

_How dare they._

Phil shoved the rest of the way into the Front, anger Raging under his skin. Flashing his Eyes Bright purple, watching it Catch.

The Boy’s eyes turned to him, wide and terrified. He clawed at the hand above him. 

Mouth Open in a snarl. Eyes Catching Completely- Ruby blazing as Fear And Anger overtook. Tiny hands clawing up the hand in his hair. 

The Guard drops him, and the little thing- snarls, spitting- growling. Eyes full of anger.

Phil shoves the last person away. 

_“How dare you.”_

Eyes turn to him, wide and scared. His wings stretching out, knocking the Cloak from his shoulders. “What could have possibly done to deserve any of this. A child.” 

The Guard fumbles; the others had drawn their Swords when the Pup turned rabid. Taking a step back. “This is _Humiliating_ for you _._ To hurt a Hybrid Pup while I Protect this village.” 

Phil can taste the fire on his tongue. Both his Boys in this position in his mind. “Get out of my _sight.”_

\---

Tech growled, anger filling his mind- tears clutching his cheeks. Anger: Making his skin burn- making everything everyone dangerous. Angry, angry. Loud- painful. His hair hurt. Why did they hurt him?? He was just with his Mama. Where was his Mama! A pair of Purple eyes Met his. 

Opening his mouth slightly, shuffling away from the hand that stretched out. Reached out to him. Growling in the back of his throat. He caught his reflection in the shining purple depths- Tech shuffled farther away; they were speaking to him. 

The angry part of him snarled, the scared part of him cried out for his Mama. For her laugh and ignorance of his weirdness. This Thing, this man was not his Mama. It was Dangerous. And Both of them agreed that it was. 

Tech shrieked; the man sat down in the dirt. He did not like this, trapped, angry- scared. 

\---

Phil observed them; the pup was clearly unhappy with all of this. And he worries about the fate of their mother. Most Hybrids mothers are killed while their children are paraded around like trophies. 

The Pup has not stopped growling, the slight squeal off the end giving off its young age. The small Piglin couldn’t be more than 9 or 10. Maybe 8 if Phil wanted to stretch it. The little thing had stopped growling, just silently staring at him. 

Phil’s heartaches just a little bit, wanting to reach in and pull the pup out now. Tuck him under his wings, and keep him safe. He knows he can’t, not if he wants the little one to even look at him with trust in his eyes. 

So he holds his hand out and waits. 

And waits. 

Until tiny pinkish Fingers curl around his pointer finger, Ruby fading just slightly too watery blues. 

“Hello,” he whispers, leading the pup out of the small space. Glaring at the woman looking over his shoulder. The pup just stares at him but tugs softly on Phil’s finger. Making him laugh softly. He reaches down and picks them up. 

The little Hybrid tenses, straight- eyes wide and fearful. 

Phil is reminded of when Wilbur was younger; he hated being carried- would sit completely still, stiff as a board, and refuse to relax. A deep frown too old for a 4-year-old. 

Only this time, it’s a Piglin hybrid who looks far more terrified of Phil than upset at being caught playing in the mud. 

He walks away from the square, holding the Pup protectively. “I’m Phil,” he looks down at the rat’s nest of pink hair. Fading ruby eyes look up at him. Hands held tightly against his little chest. Phil didn’t expect him to say anything, and he wasn’t disappointed when all he got was a soft grunt. 

(It made his nose scrunch up, his soft pink eyebrows draw together, Mouth part ever so slightly for the noise to escape. And it was the Cutest goddamn thing Phil had ever seen. And he Got Tommy when he was a baby.) 

Phil chatters on to the piglin pup, just listing what he was planning on doing in the next hour or so. Lunch was on the list now; he turned and smiled softly at the deep blue eyes staring up at him. 

The pup relaxed some as Phil placed him in the seat across from him. He ordered lunch for both of them. 

Chuckling under his breath, when the Pup stared wide-eyed at the bowl of soup in front of him. Phil winced when he noticed the Pup’s tusks were growing backward, towards the roof of his mouth. Something that will be fatal if it wasn’t fixed soon. 

Hybrids needed a lot of upkeep while growing. 

It was clear this Pup’s mother didn’t. 

\---

Phil watched the Pup, the way he tracked any movement. Eyes following the other occupants of the toy store. A Soft plush, Phil didn’t get a good look at it, but he thinks it’s a cat, clutched to his chest. The toy Phil was looking for was something he was having trouble finding despite the fact he pre-ordered The damn thing two weeks in advance.

His frustration was growing with the growing crowd in the toy store: loud children and inattentive parents. The Pup in his arms looked overwhelmed. Phil turned towards the closest employee. 

\---

Tech clutched the soft toy to his chest, liking the way it felt- It wasn’t rough on his palms. And it didn’t seem like it would hurt him. 

His name was Phil- he was like Tech, scary- ~~a monster, different~~. Held his hand, with no hesitancy or even disgust. He even held him! He tucked his against his chest and didn’t feel like he was going to drop him. 

Phil had yet to let go of his hand when they left the Village, still talking to himself- Tech thinks he is talking to him, but most of it doesn’t make sense to him- that’s okay. The rumble of his voice doesn’t make his skin itch. 

Some words made sense- and it was nice to catch familiar things. A small Content grumbles in his chest. Not paying attention to his footing. 

Tech tripped on a stone, his hoof catching on the edge, eyes widening- a squeal leaving his mouth- dropping his toy and reaching out to catch himself. A pair of large hands caught his shoulders. Phil standing in front of him with an odd look on his face. Squatting down to his level. Mama hadn’t done that before, not when he tripped on the rug in the living room. 

She just laughed at him, and it was funny! Because he was a dumb little piglet. And dumb little Piglet’s trip over the same ruffle in the rug. He leaned away from Phil’s hands, reaching down to pick up his toy. 

He grunts out a small apology. For being loud, no one liked it when he squealed. 

\---

Phil blinked, all to use to Tommy’s clumsy height. But the way the Pup pulled in on himself, jerked out of Phil’s hands. A lump caught in his throat- the task of looking for the Pup’s Mother slowly getting scratched off the list of growing things to do for the boy. 

Face pulling into a smile, “Come on, Pup. I should Have released that you might be a little clumsy on the dirt path.” The Piglin Hybrid blinked empty like at him but leaned into his chest when he picked him up. 

\--- 

Phil pushed open the door, listening for the signs of his boys, causing a mess somewhere. When the house's absolute silence answered, he could only assume they were doing something They absolutely should not be doing.

He sets down the Piglin Pup. 

Who is looking at everything with wide eyes; he smiles at him. “Wilbur! Tommy! I’m back.” The house is quiet except for the small Squeak from The pup. 

Phil walks further into the living room, peeling off his cloak and stretching out his wings. Dropping his hat on the table, shaking out his hair. Exposing his horns for a second. 

The small muffled gasp from behind him makes his lips twitch. 

Ignoring it for the second, looking and listening for any sight of his Boys. “Wilbur Soot! Tommy Innit! I don’t think I said you could go play in the Barn unsupervised!” 

Ahead of brown hair poked around the corner, a sheepish smile on his face. Cheek smudged with dirt. A streak of blond was all his warning before Tommy crashed into his legs. “Dad! You’re back!” 

Phil laughed, loud and Unrestrained. Ruffling Tommy’s hair, “Correct Toms.” He watched the Pup out of the corner of his eye. The pink-haired boy had hidden behind the couch slightly. He picked up his son. 

“Are you going to tell me about your Day?” Tommy grinned and started babbling on, and Phil clocked right when Wilbur noticed The pup. Brown eyes went from softly following along with whatever Tommy was saying to narrow and Confused. Mouth pulled into that age-old Frown. 

The 14-year-old looked at him, and Phil shook his head- Turning back to Tommy. “So what I’m hearing is that you didn’t eat lunch? And you two just built with legos on the Office?” Tommy froze, clearly not noticing they didn’t eat lunch. 

Which was alright- it was about 1:30, and The pup was bound to be hungry again. 

Plus, Phil wanted another look at those Tusks. 

He waved towards the kitchen. “Late lunch then.” Tommy’s grin was infectious; Wilbur smiled and ran off in that direction. Casting another look towards The Pup. Tommy had yet to notice- which was probably a good thing, better to not overwhelm him with the excitable 7-year-old.

Setting Tommy down on the stool and watching the Pup edge into the room was quite the adorable sight.

Phil went about making four grilled cheese and pulling the leftover soup the Pup didn’t eat. Wilbur started on his day, which was less exaggerated than Tommy’s was. Still a little out there, and probably not at all what the two of them did- if the straw in Wil’s hair was anything to go by. 

Pouring the leftover broth in a saucepan, Pup had moved even closer at the sight of the take out bowl. Looking a little worried at what he was doing. Hands still clutching at the plush. His hooves make the slightest taps against the wood. 

Wilbur was watching him, and a certain look had overcome his features. One Phil was familiar with, one that he often wore when Tommy came to live with them. This one wouldn’t last as long- already used to sharing Phil. Tommy might have a harder time. 

Phil poured the rest of the soup into a bowl and set about cutting up the grilled cheeses. That’s when Tommy noticed. “Why four?” Phil pointed; Tommy turned around, eyes growing wide- and cheeks flushing pink at not noticing. 

The pup stared at Tommy, his own blue eyes wide. 

Wilbur was openly looking at him now. Phil sat quietly, letting them figure themselves out. Tommy turned back to him, “He’s like you?” Phil nods. Tommy slid down the chair, with a gracelessness only a seven-year-old can have. 

The two just looked at each other for a while before Tommy smiled that Toothy grin of his. “I’m Tommy! That’s Wilbur! I’m guessing you have already met Dad.” Phil smiled slightly, just out the corner of his mouth. Ready to tell his youngest that the Pup didn’t talk. 

When tiny, “‘Tech.” was said in response. And Phil grinned. 

\--- 

The newly dubbed _Tech_ tucked himself onto a chair after Phil lifted him there. He was tearing up the pieces of Sandwich instead of eating it whole like Wilbur and Tommy were both doing. Phil practically shoved the whole his in his mouth before moving to stand by Tech. 

“Hey, Pup, can you open your mouth for me?” The Piglin hybrid stared at him for a minute before opening his mouth. Phil held his chin softly in his hand- the tusks weren’t long enough to touch the roof of his mouth. In a year or two without correction, they would rip up the roof of his mouth and tear into his brain as they grew. 

It was probably awkward, and why he didn’t speak all that much. 

Tech stared up at him; it was probably a little awkward for him. So Phil smiled- flashing his sharp double set of k9’s at him. One that destroyed his lips until he told his mother what was happening. “Smile. Please." 

The Pup shoved his front teeth forward over his bottom teeth. Phil tsked at him, Setting his jaw in a way of showing how to hold them. Pushing against his bottom teeth instead of over them. Tech blinked before mimicking him. The difference was instant, the tiny tops pointing out of his mouth, and the wide-eyed stare of Tech. 

\---

Tommy and Wilbur were chatting among themselves, a little used to their Dad’s weird habits and guests. Though Wilbur was suspecting, This one wasn’t just a guest. Dad was acting like he did when Tommy was little. Very, very protective. 

Wilbur picked up both his and Tommy's plates, washing them in the sink. Tommy leans over, “I think he’s staying.” Wilbur looks over at Dad and the Hybrid. “I think so too.” Dad looked over at them suddenly, ear perked. Tech had returned to shoving pieces of food into his mouth. Wilbur winced at the state of his nails. 

Dad cleaned up the leftover mess, watching Tech out of the corner of his eyes- like he does Tommy when he’s upset. Just watching, waiting, seeing if they need help. Wilbur wanted to comment about how Tech looked like a Dirty Crime boy too. But he doesn’t think it would be appreciated. 

Wilbur chewed on his bottom lip. “Could you go get some of your old clothes out of the extra bedroom upstairs? I’m going to attempt to wrangle Tech into a bath.” Dad looked up from where he was taking the now empty plate and bowl. Tech’s eyes were droopy, his blinks heavy. 

Wrinkling his nose sympathetically, (Wilbur was quite proud to hold the definition of that word over Tommy’s head later) “Sure. Sweaters?” 

Dad nodded, suddenly tucking down to Tommy’s level- dragging a bag to him. “I think you were asking after these.” Handing the boy a box, and Wilbur grins, knowing what it is. Before darting out of the room- heading upstairs. 

\---

Phil looked at Tech. The kid was staring at him with confused blue eyes; the tub hardly had a few inches of water. He didn’t want to freak the kid out. But he really needed to get him cleaned up. 

He tugged at the bottom of his shirt; Tech grumbled but lifted his arms. Watching the water with a wary eye suddenly. Phil wonders if the Pup’s Mother has tried to Drown him before. It wasn't an uncommon practice of Hybrid children. Get Rid of the cursed Spawn of the mother. 

\---

Techno’s hair was Baby Pink, and all curls- cut unevenly, and fraying in some places. Phil gathered the now dry curls, ignoring his very wet shirt. The sweater Wilbur brought was much too big, but it was a soft blue- faded and was well-loved when Wilbur could still wear it. 

Phil, careful of the Pup’s ears, pulled the curly strands back into a small bun. Laughing softly at the way, Tech reached back to touch it. Phil fights back a small rumble after a stressful hour of trying to take a bath and then the process of getting the pup Dressed. 

Blue eyes were sleepy, and there was a loose way Tech was holding his body. Phil thanks the Gods that The Pup was tired; he didn’t want to stress them out. And Nap time wasn’t something Phil enforced anymore. But after the day He’s had, Pup deserves a good nap. 

\---

Tech was passed out of the sofa, curled into a tiny ball, a blanket tucked around him. His Small Cat plush tucked to his chest. Phil sat on the floor next to the couch, a Book in his hands, and Tommy in his lap. Wilbur lay on his other side. Head on his shoulder. 

The house is unusually quiet except for the lul of a music disc playing somewhere. And the soft sniffles of the sleeping Hybrid Pup. 

Phil’s Dragon half coos softly, a low rumble in his chest. Happy Pup’s, Happy Hatchlings. 

\---

Tech’s hair was knotted again, the Hybrid had only been living with them for a week- and the Hybrid had refused to get back in the bathtub. Light growls and angry nips. But his hair was a completely different story. 

The uneven and split ends knotting and hanging into his eyes. 

Braiding it, which Tech wouldn’t sit still or a quick bun that didn’t stay up. ‘We could cut it? Even it out and let it grow back?” Phil appreciates that Wilbur says We, and rubs at his temples. Tech and Tommy were sitting in the Living room. Tommy clutches a book to his chest, talking animatedly at the pup. 

Who was watching him with rapt attention, his expression a complete mask of focus despite the fact Curls fell into his face. “Maybe.” 

\--- 

Tech gripped his hair, listening to what Phil was saying. Mama had never cut his hair before, and the men who yanked him around sliced it into pieces. 

But he trusts Phil; Phil hasn’t done anything to hurt him. (yet) Tech twitched. He sat in the chair. 

When Phil was done, the curls were short and bounced around his face. Hanging just above his eyes. The look Phil was giving him was still odd, but Tech sort of liked the hair cut. “...T-than-k Yo-u?” 

The Smile on the man's face and the small shake of his wings made Tech give him a (Much smaller) smile in return. 

\---

\---

“Techno! We are going to be Late! Come on!” Phil shifted anxiously around the front door, Tommy and Wilbur had set off 30 minutes before, and Techno had yet to come downstairs. 

A grunt and then nothing, 

Phil sighed, not quite ready to walk out. The Pup was allowed to take his time; Phil was just old. Looked at the clock on the wall and then back to the stairs. Techno didn’t even need shoes. What was taking so long? “Technoblade!’ 

A pink-haired boy suddenly came running around the corner. Hooves making loud clacks on the wooden floors, “I’m coming, Papa! Hold On!” Both froze. His boy slid to a stop at the stairs. 

Techno slapped both hands over his mouth, blue eyes wide. And Phil blinked, processing the words just spoken. His own eyes wide, mouth open slightly. Techno hadn’t moved, clearly horrified. 

Phil raced up the stairs, suddenly realizing what was spoken to him. He slid to his knees in front of Techno. “Papa? Yeah?” Techno nods, tears dripping down his cheeks; “I _Love it,_ Pup.” His Son choked out a sob, emotions never his strong suit; Phil curled both his arms around his boy.

“I _Love you_ , Pup.” 

\---

\---

Techno chased Wilbur through the house, letting out an outraged squeal. “Give it b- back!” Wilbur laughed, Tommy poked his head around the corner. The newly turned 15-year-old all but crackled as he held a stuffed cat in his grip. 

Wilbur mocked Techno’s squeal and the other boy’s expression.

The Hybrid held back a giggle, making grabby hands at the older boy, Echoing the face Wilbur was making. “G- Give! Wils!” Wilbur climbs on the back of the couch, standing here in the only way a person with toes could. 

Techno growls good-naturedly. “Not until you tell me where you hid my Ukulele.” Tommy outright laughed, clutching his own toy to his chest. Both eyes turn towards him, his older brother’s faces almost identical, something that was beginning to creep him out. (Though Dad would say that Tommy had picked up more and more of the same expressions Wilbur used, and by default many of the one's Techno uses.) 

“I think I know who Hid my Ukulele now.” Tommy’s eyes widened, having thought he got away with it. Techno held out a pinkish hand. Wilbur placed the cat in it as he climbed down the couch. Tommy backed up into the playroom. “Wait- Wilbur-” 

Wilbur let out a small war cry and took off running. Techno’s high giggling following them down the hallway. “Wait! Wilbur, this isn’t fair! Wilbur, wait!” A high pitched scream followed by a triumphant laugh from Wilbur. 

Then forced giggles and Tommy’s unholy screeching. 

Techno rounds the corner, smiling to himself. Eyeing the Ukulele half shoved into a vent. 

\---

\---

The first time Techno scums to the Piglin nature of himself, it’s nasty, and he cries for hours after. He refuses to leave his room when he comes back to himself and is scared to even go near Wilbur and Tommy. 

Phil hadn’t really known what to do. The Dragon in him is a protector; they don’t fight often. And are usually in agreement with the things they do. Protect, keep the nest clean, watch after his hatchlings. 

Techno’s other is completely different regarding Human Ideals. Piglin’s are violent and angry creatures. Phil isn’t sure how to help both sides of his son; the bruise on Wilbur’s face makes the Dragon angry. That his son is hurt, and Tommy has bruises in the shape of a handprint on his wrist. 

It made everything angry, and Techno’s heavy sobs made him even more upset. 

The scream Techno had let out shoved Phil’s brain back to the day they met. Panicked- upset, tears dripping down his cheeks. And blood spilling from his nose. They babbled apologizes and the way he cupped his hands to his chest. 

Phil isn’t even sure what set it off, but the next one came in the form of seizures. And as did the next. 

Blood bubbling out of his mouth, and sparking blood-red eyes instead of ruby. Techno would lock himself in his room for hours; the 11-year-old dove into a horrible hole of misery that no one seemed to know what to do. 

Wilbur and Tommy tried their hardest, and Phil swallowed his disappointment every time they returned with nothing. So Phil started researching Piglin’s. There wasn’t much of anything on the species. But he was learning bits and pieces. 

The Species liked gold and were a Violent mob. So Phil went to work, spent hours out of the house gathering Gold, and looking for wooden swords. Not play swords like the boys already had, but real practice ones. 

It was about time Wilbur learned how to fight anyway, 16 was a little late, but Phil wanted to protect them for as long as possible. From the real horrors of this world. 

A plain gold crown in his hand, and a pair of swords in another. Phil breathes through his nose and knocks on Techno’s door. A shuffle of hooves. Pup poked his head out of his room, dried blood staining his nose, and hair a mess. Blue eyes bloodshot. 

“Can I come in?” Phil made sure to keep his voice soft. Watch his Son, who nodded- shoving open the door the rest of the way. His floor was a mess of clothes, his closet empty. Phil blinked back tears. Techno curled up on his bed, as far away from Phil as he could get. 

Phil sat on the other end and held out the crown. He watched as Techno’s eyes flashed a soft ruby, hands reaching out to clutch the cold object. Phil coos softly in his throat at the way his Pup grips the Crown. 

Techno ran his fingers over the edges, humming a noise deep in his chest. 

Reaching down to where he laid the swords, he pressed them on to the mattress. Keeping his face neutral. “I might have another solution.” 

\---

Techno picked up on the fighting fast, slashing, and hacking with an intensity unknown to anything Phil had seen before. He was proud; the episodes grew farther apart and shorter. Wilbur and Tommy both demanded lessons as well; the three brothers learned until each started surpassing the others. 

Phil smiled slightly, watching Techno and Wilbur push each other across the front lawn. Techno was more aggressive about everything, face blank as he pushed either of his brothers. He never attacked first, but he never let his guard down. Always seeming to know where the next swing would begin and end. 

Tommy sat on the stairs, looking dejected. Grumpy, he had lost to both Wilbur and Techno. Phil may have laughed at the pout on his lips; face screwed up. He reached out, brushing Tommy’s hair out of his face. “You are smaller than Wilbur, and Techno has recently hit a growth spurt. You’ll beat one of them one day.” 

He didn’t say both, but the grin on his youngest face told it all. 

This boy would do great things one day. 

~~All three of them would~~

\---

Techno fidgeted, hands refusing to sit still, the book in front of him losing its spark. Attention elsewhere. Wilbur and Papa were headed to the Village, and Tommy was hanging out with some Kid named Tubbo or something. 

It was just him and his thoughts. Stupid thoughts, but his thoughts. 

Closing his book softly, setting it back on its shelf- running his tongue over the tops of his tusks. Hissing slightly in pain as it put pressure on his sore gums

Tugging on the end of his braid, Wilbur did it this morning, the two having Rough housed, pushing and shoving. Until Wilbur accidentally caught a handful of Curl's, causing Techno to squeal loud enough to wake up Papa. Wilbur Apologized for over 30 minutes, very softly Braiding pink curls into an Intricate pattern. 

Techno wandering through the house, ducking his head when he passed the Photos hanging in the hallway. Muddy and missing a tooth Wilbur, Tommy with wide eyes and tiny chubby hands. 

His own Face had joined them, But older rougher- no real joys of childhood. A Picture of the bottom half Of Phil’s face while he carried a sleeping babe, a Brown and White Cat Toy held in his loose grip. Another with pink curls spread around his face and a Bloody nose while he held a sword up triumph. Crown sliding off the side of his head. Eyes bright, and Face pulled into a small smile. Wilbur’s head of brown hair slightly in the frame. 

Or the one with all four of them. It was about two years old now. Tommy was Trying to scale Papa’s shoulder, and Wilbur’s head was thrown back mid-laugh. Techno’s hair had come undone, falling and blocking most of his face from view. But his lips were pulled into a wide Grin. (His mad man Grin Papa Calls it) 

Despite there being about 100 others Papa could have picked, he said this one was his favorite. Something about it Being the only Real Happy Photo they took. Something about the chaotic nature of his Boys and nothing was better than that. 

Techno smiled slightly now, turning down the hall, grabbing his new stone sword lying by the door. 

The barn's empty pasture is empty, and he starts dragging lines through the dirt- making a box: about a step wide and a step long. 

Then starts running through the movement’s Phil has been drilling into all three of their heads for the past 6 months. Something deep in him hums with satisfaction, the arches, and the slight movement of his feet. 

123 

123

123

Slash, Stab, Block. 

Stab, Block, Slash. 

Block, Slash, Stab 

Over and over again. Keeping his balance to keep his crown on his head, turning on his toes of his left foot, leveling his blade at a non-existent threat, holding the spot for a moment, staring down the edge of the blade, straight to the trees, head lowered- teeth bared. 

Breathing heavy. Techno shook himself out, letting his hair flop into his face, crown slide down the side of his head, ears twitching. 

Before starting again, hair flying free from his braid, the box nonexistent from the drag of his hooves in the dirt. Sweat dripping down his back and soaking his shirt. 

Techno stepped out of what used to be his box, relaxing his shoulders. 

Taking a peek at the Sun before curing to himself. It was his turn to make dinner, and he should have already started. Damnit. 

\---

Tommy came bouncing up the steps, shoving open the door, the thump of music playing- and the smell of Techno making Lasagna making the house warm. Tommy shrieked as he tripped over the Sword laying haphazardly in the middle of the room. “Techno!” 

When he got no response, he knew that Techno is hyperfocused on making dinner. The older boy (Not By Much) tended to do that a lot these days. 

Dropping his things next to the couch and turning the music down just a little bit. Washing his hands, getting ready to help Tech do whatever he needed when he realized his brother was absently staring at the bowl in front of him. Blue eyes unfocused. 

Fear bubbled under the surface as Tommy reached out to tap him on the shoulder. Techno jumped, blinking several times before realizing who was standing behind him. “Toms! Sorry, I was thinking.” 

Tommy shrugged, not his place- feeling slightly ashamed of the fear that curled in his gut. 

\---

\---

Tommy was angry, so angry. Emotions were heavy and never made sense. He never knew when they were going to explode. Ready to hit where it hurts, sharp and loud. 

Techno had never gotten on the receiving end of it. It was mostly Wilbur and Dad, 

But watching his Brother's face go completely blank, eyes empty and hollow. Something so terrifying about watching any emotion be completely whipped away- not in the way of Techno just locking down. 

This was a complete shutdown. And Tommy was panicking. 

His volume growing louder, the more he attempted to apologize and bring his brother back to reality. 

Dad Found them standing in the hallway, Tommy crying and Technoblade unresponsive. 

No one yelled at anyone for almost a month after that, terrified of sending Tech back into whatever state he was in. 

\---

\---

Phil watched his boys from the porch, leaning forward; as the three ran around, playing some weird version of tag. Techno tackled Wilbur from behind, dragging both of them to the ground; Tommy shouting in victory. 

\---

Wilbur smiled mutely at the birthday cake in front of him, **18** staring up at him. Almost mocking him in away. Like he wasn’t playing tag with his little brothers two days ago. He was an adult now, the oldest. He swallows. 

Tommy was smiling up at him; he was 11 now ~~(taller than Techno is already). Holy~~ shit, time seems to just vanish in the blink of an eye. Techno- fuck Techno was 14- Tusks almost fully grown, and a crazed smile only his bother could make comforting. 

Phil had been oddly silent all day, practically hiding away while he made the cake. Wouldn’t allow anyone to help him with anything. 

So they spent the morning sword fighting in the yard, One last time- as kids. 

\---

Wilbur left not long after his birthday... An idea on his mind, and no destination on his mind. 

\---

\---

Only Techno and Tommy were left in the house, well Tommy really, a tenseness has surrounded the village in the past years. The Neighboring Villages wanted blood over a mine accident. And they were keen on spilling it. Both Phil and Techno chose to help, and in the end- Techno made a name for himself. 

With a shout on his lips and blood on his sword. 

He wandered far from home by the time he was 16. 

\---

Blue eyes, a bright ruby, and a smile on his lips. Techno knocked down armies- a single Hybrid with a sword and a single goal in mind. 

_Kill._

He became addicted to the taste. 

The Piglin in him happy with the blood staining his hands- a winning streak. And ignorance of the fact that permadeath for him was a 50% chance instead of the normal 10%. He didn’t care—a taste for blood and fire. 

Wandered far from what Papa was trying to keep him from. 

He became a _King_. Wild, mad, Crazed. Powerful. A Stunning Red Cloak. It masked the blood he dragged it through. 

_~~The monster His Mother always told him he was.~~ _

\--- 

Techno swayed where he stood, leaning forward on his axe handle- eyes shimmering a soft ruby. The Reflection of Phil glaring off the new jewels in his crown. 

“I want to run an _Empire_ Papa. I want to be _King_.” 

And Phil swallowed- thinking of Tommy, who Wilbur came to collect a couple of months ago. He trusted Tommy to Wilbur with the promise to protect his brother. One that Wilbur stood straighter for an agreement. 

While Phil went off to find and Deal with the Bloodlust of a split hybrid. 

It was worse than he thought. 

\---

Techno sat on a throne, eyes bright- mouth pulled into a smile that showed off his Tusks. A smile that would shake anyone in their right mind to the core. A smile that promised pain. 

A shout from the mouth of a triumph King. “Blood for the Blood God!” Eyes shining a deep red. 

\--

Phil growled, efficiently cutting off whatever his Son was planning on saying. They stared at each other. “I think you have forgotten just who I am _Pup._ This is not what I helped raise you to be. This is what they wanted you to become.” 

\---

He took the throne. It wasn’t official- Techno was still King. But he had been banished to the Potato fields. Spending hours working on rows and rows of the same simple plant. Phil watched it calm him down. 

They spent at least an hour together, with Phil braiding patterns into his hair, before walking both of them through fighting stances. Reteaching everything he already taught. Watching that hesitant smile creep back across his face. 

Shaky hands and unsteady steps. An unofficial “War” against a boy in the town, who could plant and harvest the most potatoes before the season's end, Techno became so hyper-focused it was hard even to get him to do anything else. 

Phil was all too happy to have his Son back. 

\---

And then he lost him, all three boys, gone.

\---

The letter came from Tommy, the edge ripped, it was short, and actually to the point. And Phil’s poor heart almost couldn’t take the way Techno’s jaw set, The way his posture straightened. He grabbed for an Axe that no longer rested on his belt but by his throne. 

Phil held down a growl, shaking his wings. 

In the morning, Techno was gone.

\---

\---

Techno stepped into Manburg for the first time, Hair hiding his face from view, hand rolling the Axe in his hand. 

Tommy on top of a Horse, eyes wild and Bloodshot- face streaked with tear tracks. 

The Anarchist in him screamed for Revenge, for Revolution. Chaos- set it all on fire. 

The Piglin in him called for Blood, Death. To take what should be rightly his. 

The Human in him smiled. (A crazed Smile that only his brothers ever took Comfort in) 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how to feel about this one - While I feel like I got a better handle on the Characters, I don't know if I quite like the way I've planned things out and I may change someone of it at a later date. 
> 
> Like how I got the ages confused so many times. So if they don't make any sense- yell at me in the comments and I will fix it. 
> 
> Also, the heights are as of right now   
> Wilbur 6'5   
> Techno 5'7   
> Tommy 6'3   
> that is also the rank of their ages. Oldest to Youngest. 
> 
> I absolutely adored y'alls comments last time I'm not going to lie, many of them very much made my day, Thank you all so much! More Feedback is absolutely appreciated! I'm nervous about this one- more so than the other one.


End file.
